To the Victor a Kiss
by TheMightyZan
Summary: Alys Trevelyan loves her blonde military types, and spending time with the newly arrived Michel de Chevin can only lead to trouble.


**From a request on the Cullenite Facebook group. It was such a cute idea I had to give it a try. ^.^**

* * *

"You're up early."

She glanced over her shoulder from where she was standing in front of the fire to see Cullen rubbing his face as he sat up in the bed. Making a noncommittal sound, she gave him a bright smile and focused back on finishing the braid she was putting her hair into.

"Is there a particular reason?" His voice sounded closer, and she wasn't surprised to feel his hands slide around her waist as she tied the braid off.

"We have a new agent coming in, I had promised to meet him when he got here so that I could show him around and I don't want to be rude by oversleeping."

He rested his chin on her shoulder and was silent a few moments as he tried to remember names from reports. "Ah, right. Michel de Chevin, the chevalier. Why are you showing him around? Shouldn't one of the soldiers do that? I can find someone easily enough."

She smiled again and turned in his hold so she could put her arms around his neck and study the way his hair curled around his ears and over his forehead. She loved the way he was in the morning, all warm and sleep ruffled and surprisingly relaxed. "I don't mind. We fought a few times together outside of Sahrnia and so I figured it would make him more comfortable to start out with someone he already knew."

Cullen smiled at that before leaning in and ghosting his lips over her cheek. "Very kind of you, but wouldn't you rather stay in a little longer? It wouldn't hurt to be just a bit late."

She laughed as he closed his mouth over the lobe of her ear and pulled away from him. "Tempting as that might be, I'm not going to let you distract me from my duties, Commander."

"Like you distracted me yesterday?"

She laughed again and sidestepped past him as he made to reach for her. "It's not my fault you are so weak when it comes to my temptations. "

He rolled his eyes then watched as she slid a dagger into her boot and a gas grenade onto her belt. She might not wear her weapons openly around Skyhold, but she wasn't so foolish as to go completely unarmed. "I suppose I'll have to find you later then."

"One can only hope," she stated with a wink before starting down the stairs.

The main hall was still quiet when she stepped into it, the hour still too early for the courtiers that like to stand around looking important.

"Good morning, your Inquisitorialness."

She looked around herself until she found Varric coming up behind her, book in hand and smile wide on his face. "You're up early."

"So I've heard."

"Does it have anything to do with the strapping young Chevalier that appeared a little while ago?"

She perked up at the reference, but strove to keep her expression only mildly interested. "Oh has he arrived. I'd forgotten he was coming today."

Varric smirked at her, his expression clearly reading that he thought she was completely full of shit. "I seem to remember the two of you being very chummy out in Emprise du Lion."

"Honestly Varric, I'm chummy with everyone."

"Especially blonde military types."

She made a face at him and waved him off as she heard someone calling for her from the front of hall. Turning, she plastered a friendly smile on her face as Josephine came forward with the previously mentioned chevalier.

"Your Worship, I believe you know-" the ambassador started, but Alys interrupted her, stepping closer to where the man at her side stood and holding out a hand. "Ser Michel, of course. It's very good to see you again."

Michel returned her smile but instead of shaking her hand as she had thought he might he lifted it and pressed his lips lightly to the back. "The pleasure is mine, My Lady."

She was blushing, she knew she was, but there didn't seem to be a way to stop it. Maker, it was just that he was so handsome. All blue eyed and blonde haired with a tilted smile and his armor polished till it gleamed…

She had a type apparently. She supposed she had to be alright with that.

"Um…Yes, well. " She coughed and drew her hand back to clutch it behind her, the warm press of his mouth still tingling slightly on her skin. "That is. I was going to show you to um…"She trailed off again, distracted by the way his smile had widened and he had straighten, his back soldier straight.

"To the barracks and the armory?" Josephine supplied helpfully, her voice causing Alys to give a started jump.

"Yes. Yes, of course. To… those places."

"And then he is supposed to meet with Commander Cullen."

The reminder of Cullen had her shaking her head and looking over to where Josephine stood with her brows slightly raised in question. "Of course he is. Right." She cleared her throat and focused back on their newest agent. "If you will come with me, we can get started."

Michel continued to smile, his eyes gleaming with awareness of exactly what her problem was, but he said nothing of it and instead offered her his arm. "I look forward to your company, My Lady."

Ignoring the way Josephine's eyebrows managed to rise even further up her face, Alys took Michel's arm and began tugging him towards the door that lead down and towards the kitchen, there wasn't any reason they had to go right to the barracks after all. "I hope I am entertaining enough for someone who spent so long in the Empress' court."

He placed his free hand over hers and gave a light squeeze. "I have no fear of not being entertained," he stated lightly as he held the door for her.

* * *

They made it to the barracks and the armory which was well stocked and completely empty of people, and was where she was currently watching him look over the assortment of swords. It just took them awhile.

If a while meant hours.

She had gotten a little distracted.

It was just that it had been nice, Ser Michel was educated and well trained in court manners, and spending time with him reminded her, refreshingly, of life back home.

Before the Conclave, before the Inquisition, before rifts, and demons, and magisters wanting to be gods. Back when her biggest worry had been whether or not she really wanted to join the Chantry, and what she should possibly wear to a neighbor's party, and which noble's son she should dance with more than once.

Not that she would want to go back to that life exactly, but it was a nice memory to relieve for a few hours.

"My Lady." The chevalier's voice drew her from her thoughts and she looked up to see him grinning down at her. "I was wondering if you would be so kind as to help me test this blade." He indicated the sword in his hand and she gave a light laugh.

"Looking to see if you can best the Inquisitor, Ser?"

"I have seen you fight; I know you would do me justice."

Her smile widened as she cocked a hip against the weapon table. "Flatterer. I don't know if I would be much help though. I am a rogue, good ser, straight fights are not my strength."

Michel looked her over a moment before taking a step closer to her, his face tipping down near hers as his voice dropped to a gravely whisper. "I'll go easy on you."

She stared back at him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in a nervous gesture and a blush heating her face when his gaze dropped to follow the movement.

"How… how noble of you…"

She could feel his breath, warm and tea scented, puff against her skin and she ducked her head even as she took a step back.

"Ser Michel," she started, looking up through her lashes to see that he had followed her step back with a forward step of his own. She opened her mouth to speak again, tell him that he was mistaken if he thought he could possibly steal a kiss from her, in the armory of all places, when a pointed cough interrupted them.

She jumped away from Michel like he was suddenly an open flame, her eyes shooting to the doorway and the figures that stood there. As recognition shot through her she had to suppress a groan.

Cullen.

Of course it was Cullen, of course it was.

He simply stared at them a moment, his expression unreadable and his hand flexing on the pommel of his sword, before focusing his attention on Michel.

"I am assuming you must be the chevalier I was supposed to be meeting with." He stepped forward and held out his hand, revealing Sera behind him, her hand clamped over her mouth and her eyes as wide as saucers.

Alys was very sure that she was trying her best to not laugh.

She shifted her attention back to them men in time to watch them shake hands and introduce themselves. Stepping back again, Cullen spared her a single glance before continuing to speak. "A one on one fight against a cloak and dagger fighter is hardly fair; however, I would be happy to help you test your blade."

The Orlesian man grinned, his hand already reaching out for another shake even as he looked to Alys again. "A duel, misère? That would be marvelous, but any good duel must have a prize that can be won."

Cullen cocked a brow, his hands going behind his back as he contemplated a response. "And what type of prize were you thinking?"

If possible, Michel's grin widened, lips stretching to reveal even more of his perfect teeth. "The best prize I could imagine is a kiss from the lovely Inquisitor."

What?

She was sure her mouth dropped open. It had to have, especially with the way Sera was snorting into her hand. He couldn't be serious, but while he did look to be in good spirits, he didn't appear to be overly amused.

He was serious. Oh, for the love of the Maker.

She hoped Cullen turned it down quickly, she hoped he didn't kill the man, Maker, she hoped he didn't kill her.

"Fine." The word was shot out, flat as everything that had come out of Cullen's mouth since he first spoke, but she saw his fingers flex and tighten around his sword.

She tried to speak again but her voice was lost to some strange magic that only let her squeak a protest as the men moved past her and out into the training yard.

She stood in shock for what seemed like hours trying to figure out what exactly had happened, when suddenly Sera was at her side shaking her arm.

"Hey, are you going to stand there like an idiot all day? You're going to miss the fight, and who's your Cully-Wully supposed to be impressing if you aren't there to go all swoony when he wins?"

"What?"

"Or are you wanting Ser Fancywhatsit to win? Don't know why, seems like a tit."

She shook her head as what was happening finally came crashing around her, then gripped the elven woman's arm and dragged her out the door.

There was already a crowd forming around the practice ring and she shoved her way through it until she had a clear view of where both men were readying themselves. Dropping Sera's arm she moved closer to Cullen and hissed his name, hoping to talk him out of this ridiculousness.

He ignored her and stepped to the center of the ring.

She let out a frustrated growl before folding her arms over her chest, her gaze shifting to Ser Michel just in time to see him wink at her.

Well, he was self-assured, she would give him that.

And this was entirely her fault.

Stupid pretty men.

Cullen probably was going to kill her when this was over.

Their swords hit for the first time with a resounding clang just as she felt a tug at her sleeve. Looking over and down she found Varric grinning his all too amused grin at her. "Taking bets, Inquisitor, would you like to put in?"

She stared at him a few seconds before letting out a disbelieving laugh. "Are you serious? No."

"Ah, right. Figures. You wouldn't want anyone to know whose side you're on. Don't want to look bias."

She gritted her teeth and covered her face with her hands a moment before replying. "I of course would put my lot in with Commander Cullen, he is our army's leader and I could do no less than support him."

"Right. Because he's your Commander. I'll put you in for 50 gold." She started to reply but his knowing expression gave her pause and she blew out breath before deciding better of it and instead focused back on the fighting.

She had to admit that both men were impressive, swords flashing and shields ringing with each strike they blocked. Their twin expressions of determination were mesmerizing, and she couldn't help wondering what it would be like to be at the receiving end of one of them.

All in all it was far more arousing then it should be, and she would never admit to the heat that had settled low in her belly and grew with each thrust and swipe.

In the end Cullen won. She shouldn't have really been surprised, she had seen him fight, the singular determination with which he advanced on his foes. It took less than five minutes for him to disarm the chevalier and press the edge of his blade to his throat.

"Do you yield?"

Michel gave a nod, his hands up in surrender until Cullen dropped his sword back to his side.

"That means I get the prize."

Michel nodded again, giving a short bow before glancing to where Alys stood in frozen silence. "If she will have you."

Cullen turned to look at her then and she half expected him to decline to claim the prize at all, or at the very least to lift her hand for a chaste parody of what they both knew Michel had in mind.

What she wasn't expecting was for him to toss his sword and shield to the side then stride to her, arms reaching out to sweep her up against the hard plane of his armor even as his mouth crashed down over hers.

She gripped his shoulders automatically, a whimper of pleasure leaving her throat as he ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth and then in when she parted her lips out of reflex.

His tongue ran over and around hers, taunting her to give back, groaning when she did, their mouths locking and parting, tongues tangling and sliding. His arms hooked around her, one hand gripping into the back of her hair, his fingers destroying her carefully made braid, and the other locking her hips against his, the suddenly insistent press of him hot against her.

The overwhelming want of it made her moan, the sound caught by his mouth, swallowed before it could float out from them.

Finally, he jerked her away, his bright gaze raking over her face as their breath mixed between their still close lips. She blinked at him several times before forcing out a questioning sound.

It made him smile, a slightly tilted and far too satisfied smile. "Proving a point," he murmured, kissing her again quickly before dropping her fully to her feet.

"Inquisitor, I need to speak with you, in private."

She could imagine. "Of… of course, Commander."

She wasn't sure how she managed to get the answer out, but it made his eyes heat even more and before she could say anything else he was herding her away from the crowd and towards the back stairs that lead into the Keep.

She was dimly aware of a roar of cheers behind them.


End file.
